Morning Observations in Ecuador

Dogs to the left play fighting in exact spot where a dead dog lay for a full day last weekend. Big one is winning even though his back leg is lame. No collars. Little one doesn’t realize his matted hair will only get worse.

Young woman across street with baby strapped to her back. Short, yellow sleeves. Yells to boy a block away. No coat. He jumps over pile of trash street sweeper is collecting, blue city scarf pulled up over her mouth and nose. She works with an old branch, pushing garbage from here to there. Dented trash can missing a wheel and scrapes uneven pavement as she pulls it along, reminiscent of fingernails across a chalkboard when we had chalkboards but who has chalkboards anymore?

More dog poo.

Green rubber band on crumbling half wall. Hardened red mud and rocks fill hole in sidewalk. White rose petals cover three feet and only three feet of sidewalk. Old truck with nearly flat tires passes as garbled monotone words blare out of speakers on top of cab na-ran-jas-man-zan-as-co-co-pa-pa-ya-na-ran-jas-man-zan-as-co-co-pa-pa-ya-na-ran-jas…

New graffiti on side wall of high school. Not as artistic as last new graffiti on side wall of high school. Yellow hatchback taxi honks, scours for next occupant. Teenage boy with tight peg-leg jeans and wavy pompadour rushes past me with full bag of bread.

Paper ads on post torn and bleeding from previous rain. Indigenous woman approaches with big woven basket secured on her back, white straw hat frayed and dirty. No, I do not want a lottery ticket this morning. Pleated blue skirt swishes as she walks away, two long braids trail behind.

Short man in orange monkey-suit unlocks gate at lumberyard. Old car for sale in lot near stop light. Huge gap in sidewalk filled with trash. Man in suit smiles, voice deeper than expected, “Buenos Días.”

2 Responses to “Morning Observations in Ecuador”

Just loved this. You let your mind open up and out came all the words that would best describe the walk. But you didn’t just take the walk and tell us about it later as we would look at you, trying to picture what you did. No, instead you invited us along. To hear what you heard, to see what you saw and to even smell the fresh bread in the young man’s bag, or coming from the bread store, even the piles of poo.

And as we went on the walk we could stop and focus a while on what we chose. For me, the little child hiding herself in her mother’s skirt. Or the constant movement throughout your piece. Truly I can see how this had a rhythm. Thank you for thinking of us enough to invite us along.

I really appreciate that, Anne. I had so much fun on that walk, as well as on many others in South America. Ecuador is full of stimuli for all senses and it was a life-altering experience being able to live there for three years. Thanks for reading!